Dratted mirrors and awful words
by Dramione27
Summary: It was all a lie because love isn’t beautiful and people aren’t lovely and princes aren’t gallant, and here I am, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road. Dramione oneshot. Hermione's POV. Challenge from SeanEmma4Evr.


It had all started with that dratted mirror. I looked into that mirror that day and what I saw almost made me cry with joy, I looked at him and I knew he was seeing the same thing. I knew we could be different, we could be better than all those who'd tried before, we could beat them all. But it wasn't to be so and here I am, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road.

And I probably shouldn't be in the middle of the road, the cobblestones hurt my back but I simply can't find the energy or the initiative to get up. That had left me when he'd said those words. We had such hopes back then, the dratted mirror, seeking the normalcy one lacks being the friend of Harry Potter, being the son of a Death Eater.

It's all Disney's fault. Disney fills little muggle girls with such hope, with the idea of love overcoming all evils. That is a dangerous idea to instil in a five year old girl. A dangerous lie because; love isn't beautiful and people aren't lovely and princes aren't gallant, and here I am, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road.

I suppose I should get up, people are beginning to look at me strangely, not that I would care, I have become used to those looks, accustomed to them, indifferent towards them. So no! I don't think I will get up, I think I'll lay here until enough people have stood on me, I think I'll lay here forever. And just then it begins to rain again.

And my heart wrenches because the last time it was raining he was saying those awful words to me, those words that destroyed my dreams, my perfect Disney life.

But then it occurs to me, I have to go after him, I have to rectify the damage, say the things left unsaid, I just need to feel his gaze, feel his touch. Because I'm cold and here I am, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road.

But, and I actually shake my head at this, he said those awful words.

I have lived the last few years of my life under the impression that life had a plan for me, that I was following my destiny, that was all lies. Or wasn't it? Maybe it is my fate to lay here, unabashedly heart-broken, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road.

I shake my head again. I have only been certain about one thing in my life, I have been sure of many things, but I have only ever been certain of one; my fate lies with Draco Malfoy. This is not my fate and every moment I sit here is like a slap in the face to my certainty, my certainty which has been hoodwinked by happy endings and Disney romances and dratted mirrors.

Then I shake my head at myself, who says dratted anymore? Even my vocabulary is betraying me as I lie, soaked to the skin, in the middle of the road.

I see a flash of red in the crowd and I pray to God that he doesn't come any closer, because I know who that flash of red is and I know he's just here to say 'I told you so,' then he will leave my life forever and continue in his perfectly fated one.

That could have been mine. A betraying thought had entered my head, one that I would, no doubt, deny later.

The red head approached and I winced, bracing for the impact that those words would leave, the hollowness I would feel. "I'm not here to gloat," he says to me, I let out the breath I'd been holding, afraid his hurtful words would wind me, preparing lest I be unable (let alone unwilling) to breathe. "Just get yourself cleaned up Hermione, get out of the sidewalk and go home, stop with the attention seeking." And there it is, the straw that broke that poor proverbial camel's back.  
"Stop," I manage to squeeze hoarsely through my lips as I took a shuddering breath. "You don't know anything,"  
"I know you just want attention,"  
"You aren't worthy to kiss the ground I walk on," I spat and it hurt that I briefly reminded myself of Bellatrix Lestrange. I saw him open his mouth as if to speak "Don't even start on Draco," my tone left no room for argument, "Go home to your wife Ronald, she'll be missing her Won-Won." Although I knew it was a betrayal I couldn't help but feel mildly envious of the woman with the life I would have-I could have had. But I can't now because I'm soaked to the skin in the middle of the road.

I look around and the red flash is gone.

I take a breath, one that shatters my will and I roll over on the ground, onto my stomach and on all-fours. Taking deep breaths I stood, members of the crowd offering me assistance, me denying them the satisfaction. I stumble through the crowd blindly, knowing only my destination, once I reach the little alley I disapparate.

I sit down on the bench in that park, the place we had met…really met for the first time, after school, after the war, after everything. And I wait and I can't help but think of those stupid Disney movies, even on the brink of the end of my certain fated life I can't help but think of 'someday my prince will come'. Which I know is ridiculous because this is the last place he'd come, specifically because he knows this is the first place I'd come.

Oh but I just wish he would come.

I look around at all the muggles playing in the park, leading their perfectly fated lives, and feel really jealous, like they had stolen him away, and technically they had because we'd always said it would take the entire world to tear us apart…in the end apparently it only took those awful words. And the muggles are looking at me strangely because here I am, soaked to the skin in a perfectly sunny park.

No clouds are even in the sky. I look back down from my sky-gazing (because without clouds it can hardly be classed as cloud gazing) and I see a man sitting next to me, a fine man, that is for certain.

And the man is wet too, and the man looks away from me in a deliberate manner. "You're here?" he asked,  
"I always come here," I turned to him with a small hope, like a candle warming me, "You know I always come here." He nodded,  
"I suppose I do." We sat in an odd silence for a while, not quite awkward, not quite companionable. The one question was burning at me, daring me to ask.  
"Why did you say those things to me?" And my voice broke and I could see it on his face before I even heard it with my ears, he winced. And then I think to barely an hour beforehand when he was saying those awful words, those words that destroyed my dreams, my perfect Disney life, and I am lit with a strange passion, an anger born of sadness, a resentment rekindled from years ago.

During all this he sits there, doesn't even answer my question, just sits with a kind of pensive look on his face, it makes me want to curse the face off him. We sit for a few more moments before he turns to me, "I wanted to hurt you." It was short, plain and simple, but carried with it more consequences than even I noticed,  
"What is your problem?" the words come out without even thinking, "Are you trying to screw everything up?" and now I've started I won't stop, "Is this some fucked-up kind of masochism? Are you trying to punish yourself? Do you really hate yourself that much? Or is it me you hate?" I stopped at the last sentence, the prospect too painful to digest. "Please, don't answer that," he turned to me, "and please leave me alone."  
"But-"  
"You made your decision Draco, you made it when you said those awful words," and the last thing I remember is an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness before a blissful kind of emptiness took over and when I opened my eyes again his lips were pressed against mine and I couldn't control it and I couldn't suppress it but all of a sudden my hands were fisting his shirt and pulling him closer and I wasn't just a girl who was in a random park, soaked to the skin with dead dreams and Disney fantasies…I was his.

* * *

This was a dramione challenge from SeanEmma4Evr;

Want:  
Inspired by 'dreams to dream' by Cathy Cavadini  
A recent breakup between the couple (so they're technically not together)  
Hogsmead or Diagon Alley as the main setting (preferably when it's snowing but rain would work too)

Don't want:  
Pansy Parkinson  
Draco liking Hermione in the conventional sense (ie strictly for her looks or intelligence)  
A short, numb, detached sort of fic - I want some feeling here!

This challenge was in response to a challenge I issued SeanEmma4Evr. She wrote my challenge from Draco's POV so I thought it would be fun to write mine in Hermione's POV (something which I feel isn't done often enough).

Hope you enjoyed reading,  
(♥) Dramione27.


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